


When the War is Over

by AussieOnyx



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, HYDRA sucks, Song fic, aftermath of war, enduring friendship, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieOnyx/pseuds/AussieOnyx
Summary: Bucky's been found, Steve thinks about the past





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics are from the poignant Cold Chisel song 'When the War is Over'. Check it out on youtube- click on the clip that looks like an 80's concert to get the full impact of Jimmy Barnes' gravel-voice- if you're not crying over it at the end, well, then...
> 
> This has been sitting on my computer for a couple of years now. I started it one ANZAC day (April 25th) as I was watching the telecast of the Dawn Service from Gallipoli Beach in Turkey. While the song was written about the aftermath of the Vietnam war (as was Khe Sahn, another 'Chisel classic), I thought that the sentiment and lyrics would also fit for our intrepid heroes, as well as any Veteran from any conflict.  
> I normally play in Darcyland, but change is good for the soul...   
> Hope you enjoy it.

Ain't nobody gonna steal this heart away  
Ain't nobody gonna steal this heart away

When the war is over, got to get away  
Pack my bag to no place in no time, no day  
You and I we used each other's shoulder  
Still so young but somehow so much older  
How can I go home and not get  
Blown away?

Steve didn’t regret much in his life. Sure, there were a few dust-ups in the back-alleys of Brooklyn that he could have done without- black-eyes that didn’t add much to his (at the time) meagre appearance or busted knuckles that’d had his Ma tutting over as she poured the peroxide- but he wouldn’t change any of it if someone gave him a fortune the size of Rockefeller’s. He would never have met Bucky if he weren’t such a little scrapper growing up.

His one, true regret before ditching the plane into the ice, was that he’d never thought to go back and look for Bucky once they’d captured that little weasel, Zola. Even if all it would have accomplished was to bring a body back for burial- he’d owed Bucky that much. Steve had thought that nothing would have changed his guilt that he hadn’t searched. Sure, he’d been under orders to keep going on with the mission to stamp out Hydra, but ‘orders’ hadn’t stopped him from finding Bucky the first time. If anything, the orders from Colonel Phillips to not go after his brother-in-all-but-blood made Steve more determined than ever to go hunting.

They’d had plans for after the war. One night, after a relatively mild day on the front lines, Steve and Bucky had lain side-by-side in the dirt- heads resting on each other’s arms, looking up at the stars and planned out what they were going to do when they got home. Steve had wanted to go to school and study Art. Contemplate the meaning behind each deliberate brush stroke on canvas. Maybe go and work at a museum after marrying Peggy and forget all about ‘Captain America’.   
Bucky had mockingly said that he was going to get drunk every night, sleep with as many women as he could until one of them came up pregnant, get married, have more kids and die in his sleep at 85 after fucking his mistress. That revelation had resulted in a brief wrestling match where noogies were exchanged. As they lay catching their breath, Bucky had told Steve that what he really wanted, more than anything was to go home. It didn’t matter what happened after that, he just wanted to go home and see Brooklyn again.  
They’d fallen into silence after that, both thinking about the possible futures in front of them but not really being willing to imagine that they could actually have a future. Not with the smell of cordite and blood tainting the air around them.

Bucky had fallen from the train the next day.

As he watched the man who was once his brother pace in the confines of the reinforced cell, looking like a trapped animal, part of Steve regretted that Bucky had survived the fall. And the guilt he was feeling over that train of thought was going to tear him apart.

They were supposed to be old men in nursing homes telling stories about the horrors and glories of the War. They were supposed to stare off into the distance and remember faces from the past as they slipped into the never-ending sleep. Instead they were here, in the ‘future’, looking not much different than they had been that night on the front, but both with the weight of their pasts laying on their shoulders. 

It wasn’t fair.   
This new normal wasn’t what was supposed to happen for them. But it was what they were left with. 

**  
You and I had our sights set on something  
Hope this doesn't mean our days are numbered  
I got plans for more than a wanted man  
All around this chaos and madness  
Can't help feeling nothing more than sadness  
Only choice to face it the best I can

When the war is over, got to start again  
Try to hold a trace of what it was back then  
You and I we sent each other stories  
Just a page I'm lost in all its glory  
How can I go home and not get blown away?

Ain't nobody gonna steal this heart away  
Ain't nobody gonna steal this heart away


End file.
